


i can make you a believer

by icespyders



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-03-18
Packaged: 2018-05-27 10:20:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6280672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icespyders/pseuds/icespyders
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hinata is a disaster in perpetual motion and, as always, Kageyama's only too eager to get swept up in the chaos. But he's not cut out for this fake dating game - especially not when Hinata's so good at it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i can make you a believer

Kageyama wasn’t getting any sleep tonight. That much was clear.

First of all, this entire room smelled like air freshener and candles, all of it artificial and giving him a headache. Second, his stupid brain wouldn’t shut up, buzzing with all kinds of unhelpful thoughts ranging from wondering why his feet were so cold to contemplating what he ever did to deserve his current predicament. He was a good person, he was pretty sure. He did not deserve this.

Third, and most importantly, Hinata Shouyou moved a lot when he was trying to get to sleep. _A lot_. Every time he shifted one of his legs or curled up under their shared blanket or even breathed too deeply, he’d end up touching Kageyama somehow, just brushing against him, but it was enough to remind him that, oh right, Hinata was next to him because they were sharing a bed. Which was all his fault, lest anyone forget. Kageyama certainly wasn’t going to let that fact go. He should at least have the common decency to settle the fuck down and let Kageyama sleep so he wouldn’t have to think for a couple hours.

“Quit _moving_ ,” Kageyama hissed, shoving an elbow in between Hinata’s shoulder blades. Or at least he thought it landed there; they were lying back to back for minimum contact and he couldn’t really see in the darkness. Hinata yelped in protest and kicked Kageyama’s legs with his cold feet, and naturally Kageyama kicked back. “Stop it already! What are you, five? Just go to sleep!”

“I can’t if you keep hitting me!” Hinata shot back, curling up and tugging the blanket with him. Kageyama held on with an iron grip, because like hell was Hinata getting control of the blanket too. Kageyama had already let him take the pillow so he’d quit whining about it. The bastard. All he had to do was wobble his lip a bit and Kageyama gave in on impulse, before he could even realize what he was doing.

“Fine,” Kageyama said testily. “Good night.” This was only the first night, he remembered, feeling panic bubble up from the pit of his stomach again. How was he going to get through a whole weekend of this?

In less than two minutes Hinata moved again, mumbling sleepily to himself this time, and Kageyama’s heart shot into his throat like the traitor it was. “I’m going to kick you out of this fucking bed,” he warned, but Hinata sensed the impending shove and retaliated with his usual quick reflexes, and now they were kicking each other under the blanket like children.

“That’d make you a really shitty boyfriend, wouldn’t it, Kageyama?” Hinata whisper-shouted back at him, his voice taking on that saccharine, teasing lilt that riled Kageyama up like nothing else.

“I am _not_ your boyfriend, idiot! Don’t even start with me!” he snapped, and it took enormous effort not to swear when Hinata kicked him square in the back of the knee, but he wasn’t about to give Hinata the satisfaction of knowing he’d gotten one good hit in. “This is your mess, remember?”

“I said I was sorry!” Hinata pointed out crossly, and his voice was only getting louder. “I said I was sorry a _ton_ , actually!”

“Sorry doesn’t fix it!” Kageyama threw his weight into his back and actually almost did knock Hinata off the bed, which wasn’t hard, because the bed was small - of course it was - and Hinata still didn’t weigh much, even though he was almost all muscle. Not that Kageyama was taking notice or anything weird like that. Oh, why bother lying? Of course he noticed. He’d been noticing Hinata since their last year in middle school, been dazzled by him and furious at him and frustrated by him in a myriad of ways for years, _years_ now.

Hinata was shoving back now and sounded pained, likely from exertion, when he shot back, “You just don’t understand. You don’t and you never could.”

“I can understand you’re a dumbass, dumbass,” Kageyama scoffed, instead of admitting he really didn’t understand. Understand what? Why Hinata was being so annoying? “Shut your mouth already, you’ll wake somebody up.”

“I don’t care!”

“Well, I don’t want to deal with it! I won’t clean up after your messes anymore, not after this. I swear, Hinata, when we get back to school I’m gonna--”

It was probably fortunate that he got cut off there, because his mouth was moving faster than his brain and he didn’t exactly know what he was going to do. So it was for the best that Hinata, again abusing his speed and reflexes, outmaneuvered the back-and-forth pushing to instead vault himself on top of Kageyama, pinning him to the bed, and all at once they were much too close. Even for sharing a bed.

The proximity robbed the words from Kageyama’s throat and his mouth hung open mutely. Instead of talking, he found himself examining the curves of Hinata’s face in the half-light. Hinata had that chilling aura of concentration about him now, the kind he got during difficult matches, lining up a spike, facing a wall of blockers head-to-head with nothing but his own ability and Kageyama’s toss to guide him. Kageyama had seen it from afar time after time, felt it rippling up his skin in goosebumps even from far away, but it’d never been focused on him directly. It was like being caught in a blinding light; he couldn’t do anything but stare back.

In the moment before Kageyama realized that Hinata was moving to close the tiny, tiny gap between them, he considered, briefly, how exactly he’d gotten here: some stranger’s vacation house back in Miyagi but still far from home, led there by Hinata, of course. In a room with Hinata, in a bed with Hinata, boxed in by Hinata’s limbs outlining his body, and Hinata staring holes through him, looking like he wanted to devour him whole.

If nothing else, he was sure of one thing: this was all Hinata’s fault.

\- - -

From the sound of it, either someone was firing a machine gun at Kageyama’s door, or Hinata was knocking. The latter was more likely, but the former would be easier to deal with.

“ _Kageyamaaaaaa_!!”

The latter. Of course. He abandoned his homework, which he had only kind of been focusing on in the first place, and opened up.

Most people had told him that things would be different in college, but on the whole, things were still the same. Sure, classes were harder, he was living away from home in Tokyo, and he had a roommate, who was thankfully quiet and polite and not home very often. But Hinata was around, and that grounded him. They still played on the same team, even though they weren’t regulars right off the bat, but it wasn’t so bad, Hinata understood and they could complain about it in perfect harmony. That, or plot out ways to break into the rotation together.

Their dynamic from high school hadn’t changed: they still had their quick, still bickered at the drop of a hat, and still spent most of their time together, even outside of practice. The biggest change was that, if prompted, Kageyama would probably admit that Hinata was his best friend, but only if he wasn’t around to hear it.

And Kageyama was still carrying a torch for him, but nobody needed to know about that.

Hinata had that look about him that indicated he’d fucked up somehow and Kageyama sighed. “What is it this time?” he asked, squinting.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hinata asked, bristling. “Maybe I just wanted to talk to you, is that so weird?”

It wasn’t, actually; Hinata showed up at Kageyama’s door quite frequently, dragging him out for extra practice or begging for help with homework or just to say hello, but Kageyama rolled his eyes anyway, because this was clearly different. “You tried to batter my door down and you look like you just killed somebody. You’re in trouble, don’t even bother denying it. So, what is it this time?” he repeated, crossing his arms and settling back in his desk chair.

Hinata shifted from foot to foot guiltily, eyes casting everywhere in the room except on Kageyama. As if he hadn’t made it obvious enough already. Finally he sat down backwards on his roommate’s desk chair, chin resting on the back. “Before I tell you, you have to _swear_ not to get mad. Deal?” he started.

Kageyama furrowed his brow. “I don’t like it when you say that. No.”

“Come on, Kageyama! Just one little promise. I can explain, just as long as you tell me you won’t kill me,” Hinata insisted.

“Saying I won’t kill you is different from being mad. Explain what? What the hell did you do?” Kageyama pressed, and he was starting to get a little concerned. Sure, Hinata was a moron, but he’d never done anything actually dangerous. What would he be this reluctant to say? Maybe he did kill somebody.

“It’s not even that big a deal!”

“So why won’t you tell me?” Hinata considered, mouth twisting. He’d done something seriously stupid, that much was plain, and Kageyama was starting to worry. “Don’t tell me you got hurt, you idiot--”

“I’m fine, and I’ll be fine as long as you promise you won’t get mad at me!” Hinata interrupted, cheeks puffed out indignantly.

It had always been near impossible to say no to him. Kageyama wavered for a moment longer but gave in, as usual. “Fine. I promise I won’t get mad. What is it?”

Hinata took a deep breath. “Okay, so I was on the phone with Noya, and Tanaka was there too, and they were checking up with me, you know, asking what school was like and how the new team was and it was really nice of them! Even though they’re not really our senpai anymore they still kinda are, they care about us and stuff. So I told them about how we won that scrimmage at practice last week and that I passed my bio quiz and stuff like--”

“I don’t want a play-by-play of your entire conversation, get to the point,” Kageyama interjected, and Hinata glared.

“It’s a long story! Anyway. Then Noya said, ‘oh, well, we called to ask if you were busy the weekend before Golden Week,’ and we don’t have training til the Monday, right, so I told him ‘no, why do you ask?’ and then they said that Tanaka’s sister’s boyfriend’s ex-teammate’s cousin’s niece has a friend whose boss’s brother knows someone, or something like that, but the _point is_ they have a vacation house in Sendai, isn’t that awesome?”

Kageyama blinked. “What does that have to do with anything?” he asked blankly.

“Noya and Tanaka wanna get everyone together before Golden Week, since we all graduated now, our whole team back from when we first went to Nationals, so we’re gonna go and stay at the house, obviously! It’ll be so fun!” Hinata went on cheerfully. “We’re the last ones they had to ask, everyone else already said they’d be there. They figured it’d be the easiest time for everyone to get away because of the holiday and all, and they’ll be setting up for the festivals but it won’t be too crowded yet, it’s a great idea, isn’t it?”

It did sound nice, taking the opportunity to see all those familiar faces. The Karasuno team had welcomed Kageyama with open arms - or wings, he supposed - back when he was much more unpleasant and difficult to welcome, even begrudgingly. And that had all started with Hinata, always dragging him forward when he couldn’t make out the right path himself. Sure, Kageyama wasn’t incredibly social, didn’t usually make last minute plans like this, but he had different standards for their old team. Hinata had to know that.

“Then what’s the bad news?” Kageyama asked suspiciously.

Hinata deflated in record time, once again looking anxious with his face scrunched up and eyes aimed at the ceiling. “Um. Well. I talked to Noya and Tanaka a bit more than that, before they invited us back to Miyagi. And they, well, they know we’re at school together, and I had mentioned we were doing good at practice, remember, I said that, so they asked about you, too, you know, how you’re doing.” That seemed fairly standard and Kageyama’s feeling of dread only kept growing. Hinata noticed and burst out, “Stop making that face! I’m getting to it, I’m getting to it! I said you were fine, still super grumpy--” Kageyama must have looked more threatening without meaning to, because Hinata went on defensively, “--stop it! Not in a bad way, that’s just how you are! Which is why I’m worried you’re gonna kill me over a dumb misunderstanding!”

“You’ve been talking for ten minutes and you still haven’t gotten to the point!” Kageyama reminded him tersely. “What, did you tell them I died or something? Jesus.”

Hinata kept talking as if Kageyama hadn’t said a word. “Tanaka said, ‘if he wasn’t grumpy he wouldn’t be himself, right,’ and he’s right, okay, he said it, not me! And I laughed and agreed, because it’s _true_ , and Noya said something about how you’re lucky to have me around, which is _also true_ so if you kill me you won’t be able to be a regular because no one else can hit that awesome toss, only me, because we’ve worked on it for so long, and I told him it was true, and Noya was like, ‘it’s good you two are still close’ and talked about how when we were first years, do you remember that time we first--”

Kageyama stood up, crossed the room, and clapped a hand over Hinata’s mouth, glaring as he gave out muffled protests. “I’m not gonna walk down memory lane with you for the next hour, dumbass. Tell me what you’re so worked up about or I’m kicking you out of my room,” he threatened. Hinata was motionless for a moment longer, and then his shoulders slumped and he nodded. “Good. Spit it out already,” Kageyama said, crossing his arms again.

For once, Hinata spoke slowly: “I may have kind of, slightly, accidentally implied, a little bit, that you and me are…well…”

“What?”

“Um. Together. Us. Yeah,” Hinata finished sheepishly, staring at Kageyama as if expecting him to explode at any minute.

“You mean, like, at school? We’re here on the team together. That’s not a lie,” Kageyama replied, quizzical.

Hinata’s eyebrows shot up, almost vanishing into his messy bangs. “Are you…are you kidding?” he asked. “No, not like…you know, like…!”

“Like _what_?” Kageyama demanded to know.

“Like…!” Hinata laced his fingers together, as if that would somehow illuminate whatever he was getting at, and his face had gone bright pink. “You know! Together-together!”

A weight dropped on Kageyama’s chest and it felt like all the air was getting pressed out of him. But he had to be wrong. Hinata couldn’t be that stupid, could he? “I don’t understand.”

“I accidentally told them we’re dating!” Hinata yelled, hands clenching into fists.

The pronouncement hung heavy on the air between them for one excruciating minute, and then Kageyama started sputtering, “You…you stupid…but why would… _why would you say that_?!”

“It was an accident!”

“What kind of an _accident_ \--”

Hinata jumped back off his seat, upsetting Kageyama’s roommate’s desk lamp in the process, and shoved the chair between them as if fending off a wild animal. “You said you wouldn’t get mad! You promised, stupid Kageyama, don’t attack me!” Hinata practically wailed, his jabs with the chair becoming more menacing and erratic the more he spoke.

“I’m not going to…don’t hit me with the chair, quit--! That’s not even my chair, don’t mess it up!” He managed to push the chair aside and Hinata threw his hands up, ready for a fight as usual. “I’m not going to hit you, relax,” Kageyama informed him, voice rough, even though he tried to hide it.

He shouldn’t take this personally, he reminded himself. Hinata didn’t know. And he wasn’t about to find out, either, as long as Kageyama could keep it to himself. He’d had a lot of practice doing that; this wouldn’t be any different. But even so, some part of him was aching with yearning acute enough to burn.

Hinata lowered his hands, squinting, on alert for a surprise attack, but Kageyama didn’t want to get any closer, not right now. “Okay,” he said, still wary. “So. We’re going to do this? You’re okay with it?”

“Do…what? Go back to Miyagi? Yeah, sure,” Kageyama agreed.

“No, idiot, I mean…! The dating thing! We have to pretend we’re dating when we’re there, right?” Hinata shot back, and there was that feeling again, the feeling of the room suddenly being stripped of oxygen.

“Can’t you just tell Noya and Tanaka it was a misunderstanding? How do you even give someone that impression by mistake?” Kageyama asked, because the weekend was happening in slow-motion in his head already, some kind of emotional hurricane looming hellishly on the horizon. He just had to fall for the incredible idiot who would somehow rope him into a convoluted fake dating scheme and blindly stomp all over his feelings in the process.

“I mean…I _would_ , but the thing is…they seemed really, like, happy about it?” Hinata admitted hesitantly, lips pressed together in an unsmiling line.

“What do you mean?” Kageyama asked. He felt like he’d just been asking the same endless questions after every other sentence out of Hinata’s mouth, but he only kept getting more confused. “Why would they be happy about it?”

“I don’t know why!” Hinata huffed, mirroring Kageyama and crossing his arms too. “They were super excited and asked how long we’d been going out, who asked who out, all sorts of stuff. And I said I didn’t want to tell it over the phone, because it was too long of a story, so now they’re gonna want to hear it over the weekend and I guess we need to get our stories straight…” He glanced up miserably and he always had that look asking for favors, and Kageyama knew he was doomed. “I should’ve told them the truth but they wouldn’t even let me get a word in and I didn’t want to tell them they misunderstood anyway. They were so happy! You should have heard them!”

“I don’t care,” Kageyama retorted, trying to find his resolve. It was missing. Gone. Absent without leave. He’d never recover it.

“It’s just one weekend. And then I’ll tell them the truth later, once they’ve forgotten about it a little. I promise. So? Are you in?” Hinata was staring at him through his lashes, looking apologetic and pathetic and miserable, expecting a no, expecting resistance, expecting any kind of reaction at all. This was a stupid plan. Kageyama knew that. He knew he was only setting himself up for heartache, playacting at something he’d wanted to be real since he was fifteen, all to save Hinata from some embarrassment from their friends.

But Hinata kept staring with his stupid pretty eyes and that was all it took.

Thus, the Friday ahead of Golden Week Kageyama packed up a duffel, bade goodbye to his roommate, and took a train out of Tokyo back to Sendai with Hinata at his side. The sun was setting in the distance, dyeing the sky the same vivid shade of orange as Hinata’s hair, and the sense of foreboding that had taken root in the pit of Kageyama’s stomach was all but overwhelming him now.

“You look like you’re about to puke,” Hinata told him matter-of-factly.

Kageyama scoffed, half-heartedly elbowing Hinata’s arm to communicate his distaste at the observation. “I thought that was your job,” he retorted.

“Hey, I’m not as bad about that anymore! You know that!” Hinata squawked indignantly.

“Whatever.” He tilted his head back and shut his eyes, listening to the train car rattling around him. It was only a weekend. Only one weekend. Only a few days, and then they’d be back in Tokyo for a training camp. Volleyball would take priority again and Kageyama wouldn’t have to think about Hinata except as another spiker on the court.

That was a lie. He always found a way to think about Hinata too much. But at least he wasn’t pretending to be dating him back in Tokyo.

“You know the story, right?” Hinata’s voice drifted to him again and Kageyama sighed.

“The what?” he asked flatly, eyes still shut.

“Wake up, this is important!” Hinata started tugging at the sleeve of his jacket and it was too annoying to ignore. Another win for him, not like Kageyama made it difficult. “The story we’re gonna tell our friends, about us. The fake thing.”

They’d wasted too many hours debating this awful cover story and all the various versions had blended together in Kageyama’s head. Which were the old lies? Which were the current ones? And which were the truth that he had to conceal from Hinata and demonstrate to everyone else? “Remind me.”

“You should know it by now!” Hinata told him crossly, but continued with, “Okay, so, since we couldn’t agree about who would have asked who out--”

“I told you, you wouldn’t have. You act all brave but you’re not. Don’t lie,” Kageyama interrupted.

“Well, it’s not like _you_ would, you’re emotionally constipated!” Hinata replied, and Kageyama scowled. “I can be brave when it counts.”

“We settled this. You wouldn’t have,” Kageyama said. This was a fact he was more than aware of, because Hinata was his friend and his teammate and his partner in volleyball but nothing more. He’d told himself that over and over, and this was going to be painful enough without having to play along with the narrative of Hinata sweeping him off his feet or some bullshit like that. The scenario was too close to his heinously absurd daydreams.

Hinata’s brow furrowed; he was probably just as exasperated by this back-and-forth on the matter, likely assuming Kageyama was so adamant about it on account of his pride. “Fine. Okay. We settled it. Instead of one of us asking the other out, we’re telling our friends that it happened more naturally, right?”

Kageyama nodded, the details filtering back to him. “It started sometime during our third year and then we started getting more serious once we were in Tokyo,” he recited mechanically, trying to ignore how his mouth went dry around the words.

“Right, right! So most of them weren’t around to remember how we were acting back then, except Yachi and Yamaguchi and Tsukishima, I guess, but I don’t think they’ll rat us out, and we’ll just say we tried to hide it around everyone else. It wasn’t dramatic or anything, just, like, a natural progression of feelings. Yeah. That’s it.”

“Right.” _A natural progression of feelings_. Kageyama supposed he could describe it that way. Something in him had flickered to life when he first watched Hinata soaring on the other side of the net and it had singed its way through his skin when they became teammates at Karasuno, engulfing him before he could blink, but it had taken so long for him to truly realize. He looked back now and it was so obvious; Hinata fought to get through to him but ended up getting closer than he meant to, closer than anyone ever had. He should have known from the way Hinata pulled passion out of him, how their competitions against each other evolved to become competitions of them against the world, how the idea that Hinata would follow him anywhere filled him not with combative spite but with warmth.

He should have known from the way he felt after their worst fight as first-years, hollowed out inside, like he’d lost a limb instead of a friend - and that was the first time it really occurred to him that Hinata was his friend. Maybe he was emotionally constipated, if it took that long. He should have known from the way he pushed himself to keep up with Hinata, because accepting being wrong was better than accepting they’d never talk to each other again. But he only knew when Hinata turned to him, eyes alight, and told him, breathless, “ _You really are incredible_!” and he realized he’d do anything, anything at all, if it meant he could see Hinata smile like that.

Hinata was still talking, his voice sounding so close, but he was miles away. “…and anyway you should just let me do all the talking, you can play it shy, that’s believable. Hey, you’re listening, right?”

“I’m not shy,” Kageyama growled, staring at his shoes.

“I bet you totally would be if you were in love with somebody,” Hinata told him gleefully, and his stomach twisted. “I can definitely see it! I bet you’re a huge tsundere.”

“I am _not_ , you idiot, shut up.”

Hinata laughed. “You’re gonna drive girls crazy acting like that! They’ll never know what you’re really thinking. Or boys, I guess, I don’t think they’d like it any better…”

“What?” Kageyama asked, and he hurled the word too sharply, Hinata even looked startled by it, but he couldn’t help the way his heart had started racing, how for a split second he was terrified because _he knew, Hinata knew, he had to know, that’s why he said it, he knows._

“I’m just saying! I don’t know what you…” Hinata’s mouth kept opening and closing, as if he couldn’t decide which would be the right words, and finally he gave up. His voice sounded almost as harsh as Kageyama’s when he muttered, “Never mind. I get it.”

The rest of the train ride passed in distinctly uncomfortable silence, but fortunately it was only another hour of torture. Kageyama pretended to be asleep, and he knew Hinata was pretending, too, because he sat too carefully for someone who was asleep, leaving space between them so not even their shoulders brushed against each other.

Kageyama wondered if it was too late to give up on this plan.

The train slowed as it pulled into the station and just as the doors opened, Hinata took Kageyama’s hand. Kageyama didn’t have time to ask the question before Hinata answered it: “They’ll be here meeting us at the station. We have to make it look good, right?”

“Right,” Kageyama answered. He gave Hinata one quick sidelong glance but couldn’t meet his eyes, couldn’t tell what he was thinking, yet somehow found enough nerve to shift his grip so their fingers laced together. It was an act of self-indulgence, sure, but it soothed the ache.

Hinata was staring at him and he didn’t turn. “What’re you doing?” he asked, voice oddly hushed.

“Making it look good,” Kageyama answered, and they stepped out onto the platform in sync.

“They” turned out to be Tanaka, Nishinoya, and Suga, who were smart enough to idle on the platform instead of among the crowds inside the station. They all looked surprisingly the same, albeit older, but Kageyama supposed he didn’t look much different either. Tanaka had curving lines shaved onto the sides of his bald head now, making him look like even more of a delinquent, but that wasn’t too dramatic of a change, and Noya hadn’t grown any taller, and Suga’s smile was as warm as ever.

Kageyama understood what Hinata had meant about Noya and Tanaka being weirdly excited over this dating thing, if their chorus of oohing upon seeing their clasped hands was any indication.

“I told you! Didn’t I tell you? Suga didn’t believe it!” Tanaka crowed before he’d even said hello.

“I didn’t say I didn’t believe it, I said I wanted to see for myself,” Suga answered, shaking his head and folding Hinata and Kageyama into a bone-crushing hug. “How was your trip?”

“Yeah, how was your little love ride from Tokyo?” Noya interrupted, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“It wasn’t…it’s not…it was fine,” Kageyama sputtered helplessly, and Hinata squeezed his hand to tell him to shut up.

“Lay off, he’s gonna die of embarrassment,” Hinata laughed, and Kageyama glared but said nothing. All at once he was extremely grateful for Hinata’s suggestion to play it shy, whatever that meant. He was going to wreck this whole charade before they even got to the house. Noya and Tanaka started oohing again, other people on the platform were throwing them dirty looks, and Kageyama prayed that some benevolent god would take pity on him and just strike him down on the spot. No such luck.

Wisely, Suga hustled them out of the station and all their chattering flew past Kageyama’s head, rapid-fire; he’d forgotten how Noya talked even faster than Hinata, and together they were practically defying the speed of sound itself. Hinata was still holding his hand and he focused on that instead, and again, here he was, holding onto Hinata as a lifeline, letting him be the most real thing in the world, maybe the only real thing, and he was already drowning as dusk swept its way over the Sendai skyline.

Hinata asked about who else was at the house already and Kageyama listened to the answer, because he needed to know what he’d be facing right off the bat. Suga was counting off on his fingers, looking thoughtful. “Well, Daichi’s there, of course, getting dinner ready--”

“He’s making curry!” Noya interrupted excitedly.

“It’s his specialty,” Suga added, a fond smile on his face.

Tanaka laughed, hands shoved in his pockets. “Anyone can make curry, Suga, it’s not a huge deal.”

“Then you make it next time!”

“Do you think Asahi will be there yet? He had work but he’s not so far, he could be there,” Noya went on.

Suga clicked his tongue and answered, “Now, Noya, you know full well you’re the one keeping track of Asahi nowadays. If you don’t know, how would I?” There was an all-too familiar playful gleam in his eye, and if Kageyama really focused, they could all be back in high school bantering after practice, like nothing had ever changed.

And nothing had, he reminded himself as he tried to memorize the feeling of Hinata’s palm pressed against his. Nothing had changed and nothing would. Never.

“Everyone’ll be there eventually, right? That’s what you said on the phone,” Hinata asked eagerly, looking between the three of them for answers.

Noya and Tanaka groaned in unison and Noya explained, “Almost everyone. Some people had plans. Yachi’s off in _France_ with her mom for vacation, so she couldn’t make it, obviously, Kiyoko never returned my voicemail so she must be busy, and Chikara…Ryuu, where the hell is he again?”

“Kyoto, remember?”

“ _Kyoto_?! What’s he doing in Kyoto?” Noya burst out indignantly.

“He’s working, he keeps posting about it on his Twitter. Get up to date already, Noya,” Suga teased.

Noya scoffed. “Working during Golden Week,” he muttered darkly. “It’s basically a crime, isn’t it?”

“He’s technically on vacation, he’s traveling and stuff,” Tanaka pointed out. “‘Sides, he wouldn’t think of it as working, it’s, like, art, right? He’s filming something out there, needs the landscapes. And he told me he’s having a lot of fun, so…”

“There’s landscapes here in Miyagi! I think he’s avoiding us,” Noya countered.

“Aside from them, Noya and Tanaka managed to sweet-talk everyone into showing up,” Suga concluded brightly. “I wasn’t sure if they’d get you two, I’m sure you’re busy.”

“Gettin’ real busy,” Tanaka commented slyly, and he and Noya descended into hysterics. Kageyama felt the tips of his ears going pink, but Hinata laughed right along with them and leaned his head on Kageyama’s arm, which didn’t help matters.

“Oh, grow up,” Suga admonished, shaking his head.

“Speaking of you two, you owe us a story!” Noya reminded them, walking backwards ahead of the group - to get a better view of their casual affection, Kageyama supposed, the kind that befitted couples. “Shouyou, you gotta tell us everything, every little detail!”

Hinata tugged at Kageyama’s hand so Kageyama could take in the adoring look he was being fixed with, complete with one of the sweetest smiles he’d ever seen on Hinata’s face, and Kageyama could practically feel his knees turn to jelly. He was hopeless. Utterly, horribly hopeless. “Well…” Hinata started, eyes locked onto Kageyama’s, and his mind filled with warnings against staring into the sun.

Hinata hadn’t been kidding about making it look good; he was great at this fake dating thing, Kageyama observed miserably. Hinata told their rehearsed love story with boundless enthusiasm. His voice lilted in all the right places, his smile was so wide he was practically glowing, and he kept brushing up close against Kageyama: running his thumb over their interlocked fingers, letting his free hand trail along the inside of Kageyama’s arm, bumping their shoulders together to punctuate his sentences.

But Hinata had always been a touchy person. Kageyama knew that. Hinata was good at reaching out and seizing what he wanted, snatching tosses out of the sky, prying them from Kageyama’s hands with nothing but his mere presence, effortlessly pulling Kageyama into his orbit. And he didn’t even know. He hovered so close but he was never truly close enough to touch, to grasp, to hold onto.

His brooding took them all the way to the house and he didn’t register a single word of the conversation, only the sound of Hinata’s voice.

The smell of curry that hit him as they stepped in managed to cheer him up, but only a little bit. Daichi called hellos from the kitchen and Suga bustled off to set the table, which was too small for all the mismatched chairs that had been placed around it. Asahi had managed to make it back ahead of them and Noya knocked over a chair running to greet him, earning himself a heated lecture from Tanaka, who warned that his sister would kill him if they messed up her acquaintance’s house. Yamaguchi and Tsukishima were there, too, sitting perhaps a few inches too close together on the living room couch, and Hinata went all starry-eyed complimenting Yamaguchi’s ponytail and ear piercings, still dragging Kageyama along by the hand.

“What’s that about?” Yamaguchi asked through laughter, eyes going from Hinata to Kageyama to their clasped hands in quick succession, but nobody needed to explain the story to him. “Oh, don’t tell me.”

“Took you long enough,” Tsukishima commented dryly, rolling his eyes, and Yamaguchi elbowed him.

“Come on, don’t be childish,” Yamaguchi scolded, but his eyes were twinkling too much for him to look in any way displeased. He was still far too tolerant of Tsukishima’s general shittiness, in Kageyama’s opinion, but that had always been Yamaguchi’s main character flaw. “That’s so great, you guys! I’m really happy for you.”

“Thanks!” Hinata chirped, swinging their hands together.

“What do you mean, took you long enough?” Kageyama demanded to know, glaring at Tsukishima.

“Did you expect anyone to be surprised?” Tsukishima replied, eyebrows raised.

Yamaguchi was still beaming at them and added, “It wasn’t that hard to figure out. I always had a feeling you two would end up together. You had some crazy chemistry back in school.” He turned to Tsukishima again. “And don’t act like you knew about it, you didn’t believe me when I said it. I told you, didn’t I? Didn’t I call it?”

Tsukishima tsked but admitted, “Alright, alright. Fine. Yes. You called it.” He didn’t even bother retaliating when Yamaguchi nudged his shoulder, still laughing. Yamaguchi had gotten as touchy as Hinata, it seemed.

Yamaguchi’s words were bouncing around in Kageyama’s head and he didn’t understand all this talk about inevitability, chemistry, knowing, somehow, about a relationship blooming between himself and Hinata. They’d been worried their story wouldn’t be believable, but the fact that it was believed so easily was becoming unsettling.

How obvious had it been for all those years in high school? How plainly was he still pining?

But before he could say anything Narita and Kinoshita burst in the front door and announced they had sake, and all words were lost between that and Daichi calling them in for dinner.

Trying to follow the fifteen different conversations that overlapped each other at the dinner table would have given him whiplash, so Kageyama focused on the food. His mom used to say that nothing cheered a person up more than a good, warm meal, and while he wasn’t cheerful he was certainly drowning his sorrows. He didn’t touch the sake, though. He’d seen too many melodramatic soap operas in passing on TV about idiotic lovers stumbling their way through half-baked drunken confessions to not know any better.

Hinata was telling that horrible story again to somebody, maybe to everybody, and Kageyama determinedly tuned it out. They didn’t have to work to sell the façade, anyway, so what did it matter?

“…but you two had eyes for each other from the day you met,” someone was saying.

And Hinata laughed, Kageyama could see him in his peripheral vision even as he tried to focus on his plate, and he looked almost wistful as he replied, “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. I guess I did.”

He was too good at this fake dating game. If he kept going like this, soon enough Kageyama would be fooled right along with everyone else.

It’d only take a split second. One moment to forget that it was all a stupid lie and reach out for what he wanted like Hinata always did, one moment to do something unforgivably foolish and lose what little sliver of Hinata’s attentions he had. One moment to finally know for sure.

He didn’t notice at first when Hinata’s hand settled above his knee under the table, and once he did, decided Hinata had to be drunk enough to forget they weren’t really dating. Or worse: it meant so little to him that he didn’t think anything of it.

But he didn’t move away.

“…that’d be okay, right, Kageyama?”

“Why even bother asking? He’d probably prefer it that way.”

He snapped out of his head and stared up. “I’d prefer what?” he asked.

“We’re discussing sleeping arrangements,” Daichi told him, and Suga looked to be ahead of the curve on that, already nodding off on Daichi’s shoulder.

“Tanaka didn’t find us a house with enough beds,” Tsukishima cut in with a critical glare.

“You arrange things next time, then, Surlyshima!” Tanaka growled. “See how easy it is then!”

Kinoshita groaned. “Dude, that wasn’t even a little funny. You can do better.”

“Says you!”

“The point is,” Yamaguchi interjected, “some of us are going to share rooms and we’re trying to split everyone up. We were saying you two make it easier, since you wouldn’t mind it in the first place.”

“No, of course not,” Kageyama said automatically, even though he was starting to feel nauseous. Of course. Of course, of course, of course. In the background Tsukishima and Tanaka were arguing about who should have to sleep on the couch but all Kageyama could think about was that Hinata’s hand had lifted away and it felt like a personal blow.

So that was how it’d happened:  Kageyama found himself surveying a tiny bed and wondering how the hell he could sleep there with Hinata and somehow not touch him. He denied the usual yearnings to reach out for him, instead praying to fall asleep without incident and avoid having any of those awful dreams about kissing Hinata. They were specters that loomed in his mind’s eye all too frequently, always far beyond his fingertips, so many ghostly unreal Hinatas grinning at him and murmuring his name, none of them even a shade of the real thing.

\- - -

Hinata was getting closer and Kageyama went cross-eyed trying to meet his gaze, mind blaring alarms but he couldn’t speak, couldn’t think of the words in time.

The gap between them closed in one surging rush: Hinata was kissing him.

Kageyama searched for facts, divided them from fiction. The room was dark, this bed was too small, and Hinata was kissing him, _hard,_ with his eyes screwed shut, and he wasn’t out of reach, he was right there, and Kageyama pressed back blindly, desperate to hang on.

Their teeth clicked together and Kageyama hissed from the shock of it, causing Hinata to draw back in one fluid motion with his eyes flung wide open again. “I’m sorry,” he blurted out, sitting back, knees pressed into the mattress on either side of Kageyama’s hips. He looked terrified and he wasn’t only apologizing for an awkward end to a first kiss. “I’m so, so sorry, I shouldn’t--”

Kageyama reached out, let his fingers curl in Hinata’s hair, and tugged him back down. “Don’t apologize,” he mumbled into the corner of Hinata’s lips as they shifted, trying to find the best angle. “Don’t ever apologize.”

“It wasn’t a misunderstanding,” Hinata said, with the air of this statement being profoundly important, and they stared at each other for a moment, nose to nose, touching in too many places for Kageyama to count.

“What wasn’t?” Kageyama asked, mouth wandering to press kisses to Hinata’s chin, his cheek, his nose.

Hinata’s mouth was in that tight unhappy line again and Kageyama kissed that, too, and Hinata’s lips went soft again under the pressure. When they broke apart, less frantically this time, Hinata went on, “Everything. This whole faking thing. The reason for it, I mean. It wasn’t a misunderstanding that Noya and Tanaka thought we were going out. I told them that myself. And I made it really clear, it was all my fault.”

“Dumbass,” Kageyama said without any edge, ducking his head to kiss Hinata’s neck, hearing his breath catch.

“I said it because I wanted it to be true.” The words hummed through Hinata’s throat and Kageyama could feel them moving. “I wanted to be with you and I lied because…because…I don’t know. I just wanted it so bad. Do you ever get like that, wanting something til it drives you crazy?”

Kageyama let his teeth drag along Hinata’s neck and he shuddered. “Yes,” he answered, a little annoyed he even had to ask.

“It didn’t make it better,” Hinata said, his voice going softer, sadder, and Kageyama paused, straining to listen. “Pretending, I mean. It hurt worse, acting like we weren’t just friends and hearing how everyone thought it would happen and knowing it hadn’t, not really. I thought it’d be good enough but it wasn’t even _close_.”

“So let’s not pretend.”

Hinata pulled back again, slowly, cautiously, eyes searching Kageyama’s face. “You mean…wait, are you serious? You _are_ serious. But…you actually…?”

“Why do you think I agreed to this in the first place?” Kageyama muttered. “I did it the same reason you did. I mean, I knew it wouldn’t make it any better, but I went along anyway. It sucked way more than I thought it would.”

“Even this part of it?” Hinata asked, making vague, sweeping gestures at the two of them tangled in their shared blanket.

Kageyama propped himself up on his elbows and didn’t need to do anything further for Hinata to get the message and kiss him again. This time they got the angle down perfectly. Hinata had softer lips than Kageyama expected, now that he had the chance to consider it. A little chapped, maybe, but not enough to notice. “No. This part is nice,” he replied when they broke apart to breathe.

Hinata twisted his mouth to one side, eyes alight. “Only nice? Wow, you really are a shitty boyfriend,” he teased, only laughing when Kageyama huffed and shoved him off. “Learn how to sweet-talk already.”

“You don’t deserve it,” Kageyama said, but he let Hinata curl up around him, his arms snaking around Kageyama’s stomach and making it flutter.

“How long have you liked me?” Hinata asked, warm breath fanning over Kageyama’s neck, and he hesitated, thinking of all the years in his rear view, wondering if it’d been too long. But Hinata continued, “Because I bet I’ve liked you longer,” and suddenly it didn’t seem so bad.

“I bet you haven’t.”

“Okay, so how long?”

The words had hovered on the precipice for too long and he finally let himself say them, and they finally felt right to say: “I always liked you.”

“Fine, I take it back. You’re not that bad at sweet-talking, I guess,” Hinata informed him, planting one last kiss on the nape of Kageyama’s neck. “You’ll get better with practice, though. You always do.”

It was something in the way he said it that felt comfortably certain, as if Hinata was seeing days and weeks unfolding before them in perfect clarity, and it settled all the doubts and hesitations that Kageyama had carried with him for much too long.

He didn’t get that much sleep, as it turned out, but only because sometime before dawn he woke in Hinata’s arms and Hinata stared back at him like he was seeing something beautiful, and even in the dark they could find each other and connect, sacrificing hours to steal kisses instead.

**Author's Note:**

> as if these losers could make it an entire weekend suppressing their feelings...  
> title taken from [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jZ8EUFmsNi8)!


End file.
